


Mistaken Identity

by ktula



Series: 101 Kinks (2017/2018) [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Assassination attempts, M/M, Temper Tantrums, and no one was entirely happy, many assumptions were made, matte black durasteel panels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-20 22:09:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12442809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ktula/pseuds/ktula
Summary: Kylo Ren has fucked up Hux's ship for the last time.Hux is going to manipulate one of the other knights into assassinating him.And wouldn't it be something, to have one of the Knights of Ren completely under his control?





	Mistaken Identity

It’s the fourth ruined console this week, smoking and sparking and melted. They’ll have to laser-cut the fucking thing out of the kriffing wall in order to replace it, and the custom finish they use on the Finalizer’s interior durasteel panels isn’t fucking cheap because Hux thought he could afford a bit of luxury, could afford some fucking matte black panels, because he hadn’t banked on having a fucking toddler with temper tantrums and a lightsaber on his fucking flagship.

Hux is completely fucking done.

Fuck billing him for the repair expenses, Hux decides. Fuck it.

He’ll just have Lord Ren assassinated.

 

It takes less than a week for Hux to identify his assassin. The Knights of Ren are rarely seen without their masks. They don’t all use the training facilities—Hux assumes they have training space in their rooms, though he hasn’t been down there since they arrived because he doesn’t care to know what they’ve done to the section of his ship designated as theirs—but one of them has been using the common facilities late at night.

Presumably the knight thinks no one else is awake, but he clearly doesn’t understand that General Hux is always awake, always watching—and so Hux has a front-row seat via the security feed to a remarkably young human adult male with a non-regulation haircut, beauty marks scattered across his face, and a truly phenomenal physique running through the same series of training moves every night between eleven pm and one am.

Tonight, Hux has the security feed broadcasting over a secure channel to his private datapad, and he’s standing outside the room in question, waiting for the knight to finish his training, which should be—ah, yes, there. The knight finishes his last series of moves, and then pauses in the center of the room, bent over panting with his hands on his knees.

Hux slips into the room, and executes the code that simultaneously locks the doors, shuts off the security feeds, and turns the lights down to forty five and a half percent. He’s already halfway across the room when the knight notices him and throws out a hand, stopping Hux in his tracks with one of his banthashit force techniques.

"Oh, come now,” Hux says. “I don’t really think that’s necessary, do you?”

The knight hesitates, and Hux notices again how very young he is. The security feed really hadn’t done the man any favours—he’s easily twice as beautiful up close, with a slightly crooked nose and lips that Hux would love to bite until they bleed.

The knight staggers back and lowers his hand, and Hux finds himself free to move again.

“It’s only,” Hux says, advancing again with a slightly slower pace, as though he is stalking the younger man—which, truthfully, he is. “You look so beautiful when you’re training. You must be one of his best knights.”

“I am,” the young man says unsteadily. “One of his—his best.”

“But not _the_  best,” Hux says casually. He’s close enough to touch the other man now, and be damned if the other man isn’t exactly his height, and kriffing hell, those lips are just _made_  for cocksucking. Hux lifts his hand and places it on the younger man’s bare chest, pressing his fingers into sweat-damp skin.

“I could be,” the man insists.

“Yes,” says Hux, and he drags his hand up the man’s chest to his jaw, caresses the young man’s cheek with his thumb. “You could be.”

There is a droplet of sweat on the man’s cheek. Hux brushes it away with his index finger, then pulls his hand away, watching the way the knight sways toward him before stabilizing.

Hux lets him gain his footing, lets him think this is over—and then takes three quick steps toward him, bringing his arm up quickly and shoving the knight in the chest. The knight yelps and goes over backward, and before he can get up, Hux has pressed his boot into the other man’s crotch.

The knight stills underneath him, breathing heavily.

“You could be one of his best,” Hux says, letting his voice drop and go throaty. “Or … you could be one of _mine_.” He takes a moment to get his breathing under control, because it wouldn’t do to appear affected this early. “Do you want to be good for me?”

“Yes,” the knight breathes.

“Good,” Hux purrs, and he pushes his boot down harder into the knight’s crotch.

 

His right boot makes an irritating squeak as he heads back to his quarters twenty minutes later, but he’s satisfied with his progress.

 

Lord Ren is glaring at him on the bridge the next day.

_Typical_ , Hux thinks, but he doesn’t let it bother him, because his plan is in motion, and Lord Ren won’t be a problem for much longer.

The second-tallest knight, _Hux’s_  knight, is hovering behind Lord Ren, though, and Hux makes a specific point of letting his hand casually graze over the knight’s robe as he passes by. Just so the knight knows that he’s there.

Just so the knight knows he’s watching.

 

“You were staring at me today,” Hux breathes into the knight’s ear later. They’re in the training room again, and the knight is naked to the waist, Hux straddling him and pinning him down.

“Y-yes,” the knight says.

“You shouldn’t do that,” Hux says. “People will notice.” He shifts upwards, onto all fours, and carefully shuffles backwards, until his hips are aligned over the knights.

“I was careful,” the knight insists. “Nobody saw.”

“Lord Ren might have seen,” Hux muses.

The other knight inhales sharply, opens his mouth—and Hux drops his hips, grinds down onto the knight, and the other knight moans and contorts upwards, pressing what feels like an awkwardly large dick up against Hux’s crotch.

Hux tips his head up to cover for the eye roll that he can’t quite repress, and lets the knight continue grinding on him.

 

There’s a wet spot on Hux’s jodhpurs when he leaves the training room that night.

It’s not his.

Hux is proud of how smoothly his plan is being executed. It won’t be long now—and it’s well-worth the inconvenience of the knight’s ejaculate, because it gets Hux that much closer to Kylo Ren’s execution.

 

Hux is standing on the bridge. Lord Ren refuses to look at him, which Hux finds hilarious because they’re in the midst of a discussion about a rebel base that they’re planning to attack that evening, and Ren is being such a fucking child about the whole thing.

Hux makes eye contact with the knight that he fondly thinks of as his from across the room, and subtly taps his temple with his finger. Continues to speak to Lord Ren about deployment of stormtroopers and the number of units Hux will agree to release to him while vividly imagining sucking the knight’s cock.

The knight doesn’t so much as twitch or react, and Hux is so, so proud of him.

“... will that be satisfactory, Lord Ren?” Hux asks.

There’s a sharp burst of static from Ren’s vocoder, before Ren turns on his heel and stalks out.

Hux’s knight keeps watching Hux, and Hux winks at him before going back to his console.

 

“I want more,” the knight breathes. “I want more, I want more, I want—let me—”

Hux swallows, tips his head down to grimace, and swallows again, before looking back up at the knight. “I could be convinced,” he says gently. “But I would need you to do me a favour.”

“O-oh?” the knight says.

He always looks so shattered after an orgasm, and Hux loves it, loves him, loves watching him fall to fucking pieces underneath Hux’s tongue, and oh, fuck, the things he and this knight will be able to _do_  once the knight has assassinated Kylo Ren for him …

Hux stands back up. “What would you do for me?”

“Anything,” the knight breathes. “Anything, General, please—I would do anything for you.”

Hux lets himself grin. “I need you to kill Kylo Ren.”

 

The day after Hux’s discussion with his knight, Kylo Ren destroys another console.

Hux shrugs it off.

The problem is temporary, and not worth the inevitable migraine.

 

“I want to see it,” Hux muses as he rotates his gloved fingers inside the knight’s ass, holding the knight’s hips still with his other hand. “I thought I might like you to do it in private—but no, I’ve changed my mind. I want to watch.”

The knight pants underneath him, black curly hair in complete disarray around his face, lips bitten, honey-brown eyes hazy with lust. “You—you want—to watch—me—confront—Kylo Ren.”

“Have you thought about how you might do it?” Hux asks, pulling both his fingers out, pouring lube on his glove, and then working three fingers back inside the knight. “How you might kill him?”

“With my, uh, saber?” the knight asks.

“Don’t sound so uncertain,” Hux says, curling his fingers up hard against the knight’s prostate.

The knight bucks his hips up into the air, gasping and coming untouched all over his own chest.

“Figure it the fuck out,” Hux says casually. He pulls his fingers out of the knight, and then pulls his glove off completely, drops it on the floor with its mate. Hux has no intention of bringing lube-soiled gloves back to his room—but maybe the knight will use them to jack off later—who knows what kind of perversions he holds. “I want him assassinated, and quickly.”

“And you promise,” the knight says, voice raw and broken. “You promise—that after I … subdue Kylo Ren.”

“Kill,” Hux specifies.

“That afterwards … you’ll let me fuck you?”

“Yes,” Hux says. “I promise.”

 

Hux looks down at his datapad when it pings, sees a meeting invitation from Kylo Ren to a conference room on the second deck. The invitation gives him pause for a moment—he’d expected it to come from his knight—but then he recalls that none of the knights had been issued datapads, so this makes perfect sense.

“Lieutenant Mitaka,” Hux says casually, tucking his datapad into the pocket of his greatcoat. “The bridge is yours.”

Mitaka snaps into a salute, nods his head as Hux departs.

Hux is half-hard by the time he reaches the conference room, wondering if his knight has started already, if he’ll open the door to a mess of blood and guts and gore, if he’ll open the door just in time to hear Kylo scream, the sound crackling through the vocoder—or if he’ll open the door before things have even properly gotten going, and will then be able to watch the entire assassination, from start to finish.

Hux takes a deep breath outside the conference room to compose himself, and then walks in.

There is only Kylo Ren, standing in the middle of the room. _Hulking_  in the middle of the room. The conference table has been pushed aside, and the chairs all shoved against the wall.

“Kylo,” Hux says coolly, and he busies himself by pulling his datapad out of his pocket, and dismissing a few notifications. “Will your knight be joining us?”

“Not so much,” Kylo says, and there’s a click and then an odd hissing sound. “It’s just you and me, General.”

Hux’s blood runs cold, because he recognizes that voice. He recognizes that voice, because how could he not recognize that voice, because—

“You,” Hux spits.

“Me,” Kylo Ren says, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

They’re the same fucking lips that Hux has been watching contort in pleasure as he’s fingered or sucked orgasms out of the knight, the knight Hux had been seducing specifically to assassinate Kylo Ren, the knight that Hux had thought was _his_ —

“The whole time,” Kylo confirms. “It was me the whole time.”

“I’m leaving,” Hux says flatly. “This meeting never happened.”

“I think,” Kylo says, running his fingers down the sides of his surcoat, and then pulling the surcoat over his head and dropping it on the floor. “That you owe me a fuck, General.”

“I owe you no such thing,” Hux snaps.

Kylo is standing right next to him now—still taller than Hux, but less so now that the mask is off. He ducks his head next to Hux’s ear. “You’ll find,” Kylo breathes, “that I’m quite subdued at present.”

Hux is not overly surprised when he turns to leave and realizes that he can’t, that Ren has locked him into place with the force.

But with Kylo this close to him, with Kylo’s gloved hands hovering just above Hux’s waist and his hot breath in Hux’s ear, knowing exactly how Kylo pants when Hux touches him, how his voice gets breathy and uneven when Hux twists his fingers on Kylo’s cock the way Kylo likes, how Kylo’s hips jolt when he orgasms …

… Hux finds that he doesn’t mind all that terribly.

“Swear fealty to me,” Hux says, even though he’s still frozen in place. “Swear fealty to me over him, and I’ll give you what you want.”

“Yes,” Kylo breathes. “Yes, General.”

And just like that, Hux can move again. And it would be easy enough to bolt out of the room, to call an alert on his comm, to get someone here to extract him … but Hux could stay too, and Kylo Ren is so very, very pretty.

After all, Hux thinks, as he sucks Kylo’s bottom lip into his mouth and bites down, subdued is subdued—and maybe Kylo Ren alive will have the occasional advantage over Kylo Ren dead.

He can always hire a bounty hunter if the sex doesn’t pan out.


End file.
